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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822785">Fright Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_bunbun/pseuds/Big_bunbun'>Big_bunbun</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/docboredom/pseuds/docboredom'>docboredom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>TWRP Reverse Big Bang 2020, minor havve/sung ship, minor spoilers for movie described, some in movie violence mention but nothing graphic, twrp cover Rob Zombie when?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:21:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_bunbun/pseuds/Big_bunbun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/docboredom/pseuds/docboredom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's apparently movie night for TWRP and Havve Hogan has decided to make Doctor Sung’s life a living hell. Literally. Sung will do anything to get out of this nightmarish experience and, as usual, chaos ensues- as it is prone to do with Tupperware Remix Party.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Doctor Sung/Havve Hogan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TWRP Reverse Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fright Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my submission for the TWRP Reverse Big Bang 2020! Shout out to my co-creator and my wonderful artist!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was that time of the week again.</p><p>Drawing day.</p><p>Drawing day had nothing to do with art, surprisingly enough. It had to do with luck, chance, and acceptance of your destiny. One would think that a group of four time-traveling aliens who hailed from a good number of great and distant lands (comprising one funky space doctor, his murder-happy robot, a lord of a lost civilization, and an ex-space space pirate smuggling lion man) would have a more efficient way of making decisions besides a weekly drawing of straws, but it was a tried and true method, and hell, it worked for everybody. </p><p>Well, that was, except for Sung.</p><p>The metaphorical (literal?) short straw of Tupper Ware Remix Party and Co.</p><p>The funny bit about it was that whoever drew the short straw won in these situations, and he <em> never </em> friggin’ won. A million, billion years’ worth of good ideas that got flushed on a weekly basis due to kismet or whatever it was called. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laid claim to where they went for dinner (Meouch almost always won that one), or where they should travel next when they were done being on tour (that honor went to Havve or Phobos), but tonight came the most volatile pick of them all.</p><p>Movie night.</p><p>It was the “picture perfect” night to stay in with his best friends. Dreary and rainy, an autumn evening disguised in the thick of springtime. They weren’t even sitting because you couldn’t simply sit for straws, as one of its main requirements was quick reflexes, an eagerness to draw the good one. The one good thing about being the reigning champion of loserdom was that Sung got complete ownership over the plastic. He could feel them in his hands now, four little sharp ends cutting into his palms.</p><p>“Gentlemen,” he crooned. “We gather here tonight for our weekly tradition-”</p><p>“Shove it, Doc.” Meouch wriggled his fingers eagerly, taking up a battle stance. “Let’s get down to business.”</p><p>Phobos also had a knowing gleam in his eyes, but it was Havve who Sung was most nervous about. He was simply <em> standing </em> there, hands at his side, faceplate painfully unreadable. Even worse was how the link between them lay empty, not a single thought coursing along it from the robot at all. Sung could feel his good eye twitch. What could he be up to… what was he plotting? Bah. It was probably nothing.</p><p>“Alright, alright, fine! Good luck, assholes.” </p><p>And then Sung whipped his fist forward and closed his eyes. He felt Phobos draw the first straw, fingers as quick and nimble as they were on his guitar strings. Meouch next, already muttering a comment about how “shit’s rigged!” as he pulled away. Two left. Could it be possible? Could he finally win and get everyone to finally watch Kung Fury…?</p><p>Havve’s hand laid over his and gently pulled the final straw and Sung knew before it had even slipped from his grip what had happened, the powers that be laughing at him endlessly.</p><p>“Oh good.” Havve hummed, eyes going star bright. “Looks like we’re watching my movie tonight.” </p><p>Havve’s eyes glowed a brilliant red as he held up the smallest of the cut plastic. Sung could feel sweat cutting down his back as he twirled the straw between his fingers before stalking towards the entertainment shelf. Past all Sung’s Scott Pilgrim collection and other knick knacks, past Meouch’s mess of video games, past Phobos’s sprawling library… all the way down to where the DVDs were. Not horror. Anything but horror. His eyelid was twitching now as they waited in silence, Hogan taking his sweet, sweet time scanning the titles. Finally, he plucked a case from the furthest recesses and displayed it proudly.</p><p>“House of a 1000 Corpses?” Sung heard himself whisper from a million miles away, gaze fixated on the woman’s face on the cover, twisted in agony. </p><p>Havve gave the case a playful little shake, voice slow and deep. “That’s the choice for tonight.”</p><p>“Rob Zombie’s classic? Hogan!” Meouch went over and clapped a paw across Havve’s shoulder. “You’re a robot after my own heart.” He grinned wickedly as his tail flicked back and forth, clearly eager for what was in store. “I’m getting the beer. Yes, Phobos. Beer. Don’t start.”</p><p>Phobos made a face. “...Beer makes me feel gross.” It was his turn to approach, making a grab for the case instead. “This looks awful.” He commented in a flat voice as he scanned the description on the back, antennae folding as his eyes skipped down. “Doctor Satan, huh? Any relation to Sung?”</p><p>All eyes on him, causing him to freeze in place, to the point where it felt like his breath was coming up short. He eyed the cover again, nostrils flaring. “Havve-”</p><p>“I won.” The robot countered immediately. “Those are the rules, Sung.”</p><p>“Yeah but like, there’s like, so many other things that we’ve been wanting to watch for like, ever.” Three likes in a sentence. It was impressive, almost. “Like…”</p><p>Meouch had gone to get the beer but Phobos was giving him a knowing look. A warning look.</p><p>“And I want to watch this.” Havve wasn’t budging, was he? “I didn’t make the rules, Sung. You did.”</p><p>And oh, how right he was; it was just the fact that he kept losing...</p><p>Sung blew an exasperated breath out and chose to focus anywhere but the woman’s face or Hogan’s damning stare. “Okay, yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Havve was still watching him though, doubting and disbelieving, pinning him to the spot until he forced himself to move lest he get eye-skewered.</p><p>It appeared as though Meouch had also made popcorn and brought all the fixings along with the case of beer. Phobos grabbed his favorite blanket and pressed into the corner of the couch quietly, already snuggled up. Havve sat between them, remote in hand, body bent towards the flat screen excitedly. Sung was the last in the room, shuffling his feet slowly, wishing he was the kind of guy who had a stuffed animal in these trying times. Meouch, ever the son of a bitch, picked up on Sung’s body language immediately.</p><p>“We haven’t even put it on and you’re scared shitless,” the lion man purred, flicking the cap off his beer with a terror sharp claw. “Let me guess, you wanna keep the lights on.” He teased his lips against the rim, whiskers twitching with quiet amusement.</p><p>“No! What’s the point of watching a scary movie with the lights on?” Sung’s voice all but cracked as it blared out of him. To prove his point, he stormed up to the switches and flipped them all down, leaving only his core, Phobos’s eyes and antennae, Havve’s optics, and the light of the TV screen to see by. “This is nothing.”</p><p>“Says the guy with the built in night light,” Meouch teased in a whisper to Havve, causing the robot to snicker obviously.</p><p>Assholes. He was going to rig the next game of straws and make them all work out until they were at death’s door. Maybe not Phobos, who hadn’t said anything mean yet. He’d get off easy this time. The real problem now was where he was going to sit. Everyone was settled in and all there was was a space by Meouch. Don’t be a dick, he wanted to say, except Meouch would feign innocence while also pushing the whole ‘what’s there to be a dick about Sung, unless you’re a big baby?’ thing.</p><p>“Give me one of those,” he muttered irritably.</p><p>Meouch snorted. “Give me five bucks.”</p><p>He blinked, certain he had misheard him. “These do not cost five dollars each, Meouch.”</p><p>“They do when I’m selling ‘em, sweetheart.” Meouch’s mouth curled ever further. “Pay up.”</p><p>Havve grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap like it was nothing, his eyes cutting into both of them as he handed Sung the beer. This really was going to be a nightmare before the credits even rolled. Surreal, violent images flashed across the screen paired with metal music - something he could get behind really if he didn’t have any eyesight. </p><p>“We’re starting immediately,” Havve said, still watching him unblinkingly. “If you leave for the bathroom. I’ll pause. If you want snacks. I’ll pause. No one’s allowed to miss any of this.” There was a soft metallic noise, one that they weren’t unfamiliar with but hadn’t heard in quite some time. It was the result of Havve smiling, his mouth stretched into a strange and sharp grin across his metal face. </p><p>Sung swallowed quickly, nodding with a high and broken laugh. “Well yeah man, obviously. Wouldn’t want us to miss any plot.” Drat. Havve had seen right through him. How was he going to get out of this now? The robot took that as good enough of a follow up to start the movie, and then they were in hell.</p><p>Well, maybe not hell. It was too quiet and dark for that. A stretch of purgatory before everything <em> went </em> to hell. Sung sipped at his beer nervously, feeling almost uncomfortable as the delay continued. And almost as if he had willed it into existence, it started: a static screen that gave way to a shifting array of black and white horror movies. He let out a breath. Maybe… It wouldn’t be that bad. He could handle cringey cheesy stuff any day. </p><p>Meouch was nearly done with his first bottle, eyes scanning the screen with no expression, almost lazily. Havve, on the other hand was fully leaned forward, his excitement palpable. He was just about to sneak a peek at Phobos when they were all met with the image of a clown in black and white, the supposed ringman of a twisted circus. Sung gave a small start and quickly turned his head, trying to block out whatever was happening.</p><p>“Hey, didn’t you dress up like that guy last Halloween?” Phobos murmured as the screen continued to flash frantically, only to be promptly hushed by both Havve and Meouch. “It was <em> just </em> a question…” His voice went lower, a petulant huffing.</p><p>The ringmaster <em> did </em> look terrifyingly familiar, Sung couldn’t help but realize with a peek. Havve always went full out every Halloween, at complete odds with whatever silly little get ups they had planned out. He wanted to ask Havve how many times he had seen this damn movie, but he didn’t want to be cut over it either. It was all fun and games and joking about knives and murder until you had to watch it happen “in real time.” </p><p>One of these days he was going to hack into Havve’s programming and put something more family friendly in. Like crocheting. Or bird watching...</p><p>For now, though, Sung kept his focus on <em> not </em> focusing. He kept his eyes averted subtly, working through scales of future songs inside his mind quietly. This note here, that note there. Up-up-up? No. Bring it to a minor key. Draw it out… And it was all fine and dandy until Meouch grabbed him at the worst possible time, right at the first real jump scare. Sung screamed and felt his beer spill over his lap, which caused Phobos to scream, which then had Havve hitting the pause button viciously.</p><p>“Excuse me,” he bit out, eyes flashing with annoyance as Meouch erupted into obnoxious laughter, “this is serious.”</p><p>Sung made a furiously incredulous noise. “This is bullshit. Meouch! Look at my fucking pants!” They were soaked and looked, felt, and smelled absolutely disgusting. “God, you’re such an asshole.”</p><p>“Oh, lighten up you two!” Meouch managed between great gulping laughs. “I’m just fucking around.”</p><p>“Not <em> funny </em>.” He got up, trying to ignore the way his heart galloped and the way his sweat clung to his palms. “I’m going to fucking change, asshole.” Oh Meouch was definitely going to die at the hands of his next workout. </p><p>“Get my five bucks while you’re in your room, Doc!” Meouch called after him, ignoring the way Phobos clucked his tongue disappointedly. Sung took his sweet time getting to his room and shucking off the nasty stuff, half tempted to stay there but knowing full well Havve would go hunting after him. A locked door wouldn’t matter to a force of nature like Hogan.</p><p>He came back and was surprised to see the seating arrangement had changed. Meouch was next to Phobos now and Havve was at his right side. “I’ve been told to apologize,” the lion man said under his breath.</p><p>“And how’s that going for ya?” Sung snorted.</p><p>“Awful, because now he’s sitting next to me!” Phobos snuck further under his blanket, shrieking when Meouch grabbed it from him. He managed one well-placed kick to Meouch’s knee, laughing at his pained grunt. “That’s what you get, Jazzlan.”</p><p>“Don’t call me that-”</p><p>Sung watched them eagerly, certain they’d get distracted enough to forget they were even watching a movie, but Havve’s laser focus was at the ready, prompting him to glance at them in warning before starting the movie again. “Pay attention.” He pointed at all of them. “Or else.”</p><p>Sung felt an oddly placed shiver run down at his spine at the command. Normally Havve’s threats came and went like dust on the wind, but the current atmosphere told him he ought to leave it be and believe him. He made a small noise and sank back into the couch, grateful at least for the change in seating. He’d be left alone for the most part like this now, but then again, Havve would pick up on everything. No swinging multiple bathroom breaks. No faking sick. No walking to the kitchen to constantly keep snacking. Staring at his legs made Sung wonder if he could just stand off to the side and claim he was feeling restless and wanted to work off his excess energy, but he had a feeling that would piss Havve off further.</p><p>This fucking sucked big time.</p><p>The movie had gotten to the point where it was simply screaming and awful squishing sounds. How had they even made this thing? If Havve forced his hand and made Sung write a “NO SNUFF FILMS” rule he was going to lose it. There had to be a line. Even if Havve was a “murder bot,” there had to be a point where he had to excercise some kind of empathy. Sung glanced up to see Meouch now easily eating chips, back to looking stoned off his ass, whereas Phobos seemed to be studying the film, antennae glow-blinking with each passing second.</p><p>“Crazy to think that’s Dwight from the Office,” Phobos said out of nowhere, causing Sung to look up and see one of the main characters now fitted with a fish tail, eyes dead and glazed over. It was… almost funny, in a way. To the point where Sung had to laugh weakly. Everyone looked his way and he blushed immediately.</p><p>“What?” He choked out. “It looks weird!”</p><p>Phobos, bless his heart, smiled faintly. “That’s what I was saying!” Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. He just had to look past all the gore and the jump scares and vicious murdering… “Seriously, imagine Dwight being like… ‘Michael! Jim photoshopped me onto a fish!’” What he would give to be sitting next to Phobos, but he was all the way at the other end of the couch, and Havve was giving them both quite the stink eye.</p><p>He gulped, murder on the mind inconveniently. “Whoops?” he managed sheepishly. “Sorry.”</p><p>Havve shook his head with an irritable sound. “Next time we have a group activity and you win, I’m going to do everything in my power to not be a part of it.</p><p><em> But it’s not just me! And it’s not fair! </em> Still, even with the retorts eager to jump off the tip of his tongue, Sung still felt guilty. Havve had won, fair and square, he just-</p><p>He just didn’t feel comfortable. </p><p>It was made worse by the fact that Havve was the quietest member of the band and that he didn’t ask for much or argue too often. He was always that silent presence in the back, trailing along like a ghost. He rarely won at straws either, Sung had to remember. This was his opportunity, won fair and squarely. </p><p>So focus on the good things, Sung, not the fucked up gross violence. He let out a low meditative breath and matched Havve’s posture while forcing himself to look at the screen. It was only a movie, and the director was a musician just like him! Super talented, given the soundtrack. Super weird too. Insanely weird. How did anyone think of this when you could be writing songs about friendship? And doing cool things? And saving the world?</p><p>Something awful was happening on screen that he didn’t even want to think of, so all those thoughts went out the door immediately. “Hogan,” Meouch murmured over the agonized screaming, “I gotta rock a piss. Gimme a second.”</p><p>It was no more than tiny milestones at this point. Getting through a scene without cringing, or not screaming at the top of his lungs. Not covering his face and nearly weeping. And now they were at this. Him not being the one to break the rhythm of the movie by asking to go to the bathroom. Havve sighed but obliged, giving Sung the chance to melt back into the couch cushions and rub at his eyes subtly. There were images burned there that he’d never get rid of. Things that made him tear up…</p><p>Phobos also stood, stretching his limbs out nice and long. How was he so unbothered? “Snack break!” he chirruped before cocking his hip out, drawling slowly. “Behave, please?” It prompted a dry look from Havve, but Phobos was simply grinning. Soon, it was just the two of them, the room still dark, the screen painted bloody.</p><p>“Why do you even <em> like </em> this stuff?” It was out before Sung could help himself, the anxiety finally catching up to him, causing him to blurt the words out. Havve blinked slowly before folding his hands in his lap, shoulders moving with a silent sigh.</p><p>“Because it’s different. It’s creative in a way we don’t get to be.” The robot didn’t spare him a glance, his eyes focused solely on the television screen, as if committing what was there to memory. “It might not be everyone’s favorite, but time and effort went into all of this, Sung. And that’s what I appreciate.”</p><p>“Do you want to make something like this?” He had found Havve, after all, covered in blood, with homicidal tendencies. He hadn’t known any better, though, is how Sung had been able to reason it out, but maybe there had been something in Havve that had wanted that. Was that good? Bad? Was that his decision to make anyways?</p><p>Havve snorted and shook his head. “No, no. Don’t get too worried, Sung-Shine.” Havve’s optics went soft as he patted Sung’s cheek. “No Dead by Daylight Havve in your future.” </p><p>Sung paused, smiled despite himself, felt something uncinch itself inside of him. “...What about Meouch’s future?” he joked.</p><p>“Now that,” Havve’s optics brightened, “is funny.”</p><p>He laid his head carefully against the other’s shoulder, pleased that Havve let him. It felt easier now. His nerves washed away and the mood was infinitely lighter. “I like the music,” Sung admitted quietly, which got Havve’s shoulders jumping, a small huff leaving him. “Zombie really uh, knows how to set a mood.”</p><p>“You would like his music.” Havve shook his head, but what mattered was that he sounded happy. They had found their middle ground, finally. “Next time we can watch a Quiet Place. I’ve heard that’s more suspenseful than scary.”</p><p>“And get more Office jokes from Phobos? Please.” Sung made a pshaw-ing noise and that got Havve really laughing. He had this way of making him feel safe no matter what. Even during their first meeting. Sung giggled, not moving his head from Havve’s shoulder. “We could totally cover one of his songs.” He was ‘80s adjacent, right? “Could you imagine TWRP covering ‘Dragula?’” He could see it now. Hear it. Sung slid off the couch and pressed his fingers deep into his “air” synth, head banging dramatically. “SLAM IN THE BACK OF MUH DRAGULA!” he fake screamed.</p><p>Havve’s eyes flickered with delight, and Sung quickly realized that Phobos and Meouch were watching. He finished his set and flopped back onto the carpet dramatically, grinning as everyone broke out into a series of golf clap applauding. Meouch gave a low whistle, raising his beer towards him. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. No more pussy shit. We’re going hardcore.”</p><p>“I’m about it,” Phobos said with a slow smile. “The guitar riffs would be killer.”</p><p>Sung crossed his arms across his chest. “Maybe it’ll be a solo project. Who knows.” Meouch opened his mouth to retort, but Havve gave a wave of the remote. It was much more casual this time around, though, and that was more than enough for Sung. “Break time is over. Movie time now. We can talk about Rob Zombie synth covers tomorrow!”</p><p>“What’s with the sudden change in tone, bud?” Meouch asked as he flopped onto the couch. “Did Havve promise you after-movie cuddles to keep the bad dreams away?”</p><p>Sung felt himself blush, standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll have you know-”</p><p>“Sung.” Havve jabbed him in the stomach with the remote. “Sit down.”</p><p>The shorter man sighed, making eyes at Meouch before sitting back down. They were so close to being finished and then he could go lie down. In a brightly lit room. With Jack Johnson playing. Or Barney lullabies. He could do this for Havve. He would do this for Havve, damn it.</p><p>It had gotten to the point where the killer was dressing the remaining victims in rabbit suits. The sight of it made Sung shiver with how twisted it was. Remember, this was all just… artistic integrity. Creativity! Deep breaths now. “Imagine if that’s how you became Meouch.” He gave a sharp bark of a laugh, feeling the anxiety bubble up once more. But he could do this for Havve. He just had to keep telling himself to do this for Havve. Meouch shot him a dangerous look before turning back to the movie, deciding it was best to hold his tongue, it seemed. </p><p>Someone was shouting on the screen. The killer, Sung assumed, ‘setting his victims free.’ He was giving great whooping, maniacal laughs, screaming “Run rabbit run!” at whoever was left alive. Sung squeezed his eyes shut, stomach lurching at the mixed cries and screams of the woman running on screen. Almost done. Almost there. It was just a movie…</p><p>He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take it anymore!</p><p>Sung went to jump out of his seat with a violent shudder, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. But something caught his wrist, cold and sharp, nearly causing him to scream out loud. It was only Havve, though. The alien blinked, barely biting back the confused noise that was crawling up his throat, lips half forming the other’s name with a question in mind. But he thought better of it and slowly sank down, letting Havve’s hand stay clawed there, letting his own fingers touch upon them softly. </p><p>Finally finally finally the credits began to roll after a final terrifying scream, the sound of metal music slamming against his senses. Havve had finally begun to let go of his wrist, but there was no missing the small trembling there as he reached for the remote a final time. Meouch pushed up with a loud groan, bending his back until it gave a terrifying crack. “Devil’s Rejects next, yeah?” He smirked. “Fuck it, I’m gonna grab a smoke, then I’m feeling ice cream.” Leave it to the Commander to be unfazed. Bastard...</p><p>At the mention of ice cream Phobos was up in an instant, nodding excitedly. “Please and thank you.” His antennae bobbed along with. He gave a small pause, offering Havve a small smile. “Good movie choice by the way; I’m glad it wasn’t our usual.” He slipped after Meouch, already babbling about ice cream flavors and if they should eat what they had at home or go and buy something.</p><p>Straw! Sung wanted to yell after them, but he was still frozen, still feeling himself unlock and come back to the world of the living. He closed his eyes, sighed. “It’s finally over.” He breathed in unmistakable relief. </p><p>Havve was quiet and Sung opened his eyes again. He cocked his head, worry creasing his features. “You okay…?”</p><p>Havve issued a small whirring noise, blinking his optics before covering his face plate. “It got to me there, at the end.” He chuffed a small laugh, his voice lower than usual, almost hesitant. “I thought at least <em> someone </em> would survive.” Had Havve not seen this movie before? He could have sworn. Sung’s brows jumped but he kept his mouth silent. He wasn’t Meouch after all. “I didn’t want to say anything because I chose it, and I got so angry-”</p><p>Sung grimaced as Havve trailed off. When there wasn’t a light at the end of the table, it did become a harder pill to swallow. It was wild to think that this was the case, and so he spoke it out loud, just to make sure. “Havve… were you… are you scared?” He asked quietly, not sure what to expect as an answer.</p><p>The robot didn’t respond at first, his optics dimmed between the slots of his fingers. “A little.” He laughed roughly and the noise Sung issued in response was part surprise, part sympathy. “Don’t tell Meouch.” Havve tried to joke but his voice sounded wretched. </p><p>“I’ll kick Meouch’s ass if he says anything.” This is where Sung felt bravest. When taking care of his friends. He touched Havve’s wrist, tapping along the wire covered metal as if feeling for his pulse. It was amazing that a thing like him could feel fear. Be scared… “We can be scared together.” He admitted after a beat. “Hell. I can be your night light tonight.” </p><p>“...I’d like that.” Havve murmured, and oh, alright then. Maybe, just maybe, drawing straws wasn’t that awful. Maybe, just maybe, you won in a different way. Sung touched his hand, resting the digits together, smiling softly in the dark they shared. “I’ll always be your night light. And next time Hogan. you don’t have to pretend to be brave. I think you’re brave enough already.” A pause. “Now let’s go get some ice cream.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Check out my wonderful artists commissions on tumblr @ blookangaroo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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